


Wounds

by Nugg



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Blood, Both our boys are hurt in two different ways, M/M, gore..?, severe wounds, v sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 10:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15337488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nugg/pseuds/Nugg
Summary: This wasn't temporary. No small, neon green bandaids could heal this. No comforting touches or warming feelings could make everything better.





	Wounds

     Akira never liked blood.

     From crashes to the pavements. Multi Colored band aids  covering the spots where the asphalt was the harshest. Kisses to his cheeks to stop the waterworks. Soft thumbs over his hand to assure him that the scrapes were temporary.

      Now, he watched as the warm, thick substance erupted around his hands. Pressing down hard. Red occupying the spaces between his fingers. Filling the void and seeping through.

      Tears stung his eyes. Heavy breathing, choking sounds beneath him. Mouth open in empty sobs. As much as he tried, his vision blurred, and the person below him split into hazy fractions.

      This wasn't temporary. No small, neon green bandaids could possibly heal this. No comforting touches, or warming feelings could make everything better.

        Ryuji was bleeding profusely in his arms. Croaking, struggling with everything he did. Eyes turned up towards the familiar ceiling of the metaverse, heaving. Chest rising up and down violently.

         “Please,” Akira had begged, as though the one he held would take his strangled words and use them to close the gaping wound in his stomach, “P-please stay alive.”

         A yellow glove bathed in scarlet went to his cheek. And he closed his eyes. Letting out a broken cry. Feeling a smear to his skin as the one who needed the most help tried to comfort. Always thinking of others, even when he was dying on the floor of some dingy subway in a whole different world.

          Morgana was coming. He was. Even if every second went by slower each time it passed. Morgana would save Ryuji. Morgana would, he _had_ to.

         Still pressing down with everything he had, Akira leaned over the limp body, pressing his lips to the dry mouth. Closing from gaping openly at the pain. Returning with as much passion as he could manage.

        Blond was streaked in red when he pulled away. The copper eyes flecked with bits of sunlight that he fell in love with so long ago drooping. Nodding off.

         Shaking his head, Akira kept adding pressure, “Ryuji, no- no. You have to stay awake. Ryuji. _Ryuji!”_

A lopsided grin shown back, “Pssh. I was jus’...  jus’ restin’”

        Humor buried so far under his tears, Akira had let out a ridged breath, “You're literally dying,” a hollowed laugh followed, “And yet, you're- you're still joking.”

         If he'd just taken the time to think. Brought healing items with him. If they all didn't split up to cover more ground.

       One fowl swipe from a shadow before it perished into black smoke, one terrified glance. Eyes darting over to see Ryuji freeze, eyes wide. Bringing a hand to his stomach, and staggering back at the sight of blood.

       He'd fallen before Akira could reach for him. Frantically contacting Futaba. Screaming for Morgana to come heal him. Echoing down the empty corridors.

       “I love you, Ryuji.” He lay his head over his hands, so vulnerable.

       Fingers sifting through his hair, the injured boy let his smile waver, “Awe… that's- that's sappy.”

       “But, aye- I love you too Akira.”

       They could hear the distant sound of the Monabus. And a feeling of relief washed over the person desperately trying to keep the one person he held so dearly alive. Lights like a beacon of hope in the dark tunnel.

         “Ya know… I think,” Ryuji coughed, “I think, you're the best person in the world? And, you're so- _so_ pretty.”

        The bus rolled up. A blinding flash illuminated the whole area. Footsteps. Desperate cries were heard from various friends. All blending together in a terrible melody. One sung with horror filled lyrics.

          Akira watched as a pair of eyes closed.

          Lifting his hands from his stomach. Metaverse stunned into silence. Thieves frozen solid, standing like scared statues.

          Wound gone. Blood settling into pools, no longer able to flood out of the limp body. Tears unable to fall in suspense. More awake, more keen to their surroundings than they ever were in their lives.

     There was a sharp breath.

      And then.

      There was life.

 

 

 

         “So freakin’ pretty.”

 

        

**Author's Note:**

> I got sad all of the sudden and decided to write this. 
> 
> Sorry!!


End file.
